<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>An Adequacy of Consideration by RaisingCaiin</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278002">An Adequacy of Consideration</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisingCaiin/pseuds/RaisingCaiin'>RaisingCaiin</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>(a bit of both... as a treat...), Cultural Differences, Drama in Nargothrond, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Identity Porn, Intrigue, M/M, Nargothrond, Past Relationship(s), Politics Lite, Polyamorous Character, fantasy slurs, king/lionheart vibes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 04:20:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,750</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29278002</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RaisingCaiin/pseuds/RaisingCaiin</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>One of the Noldorin princes who has recently taken refuge in Nargothrond approaches Edrahil in the marketplace and makes him a strange and unusual offer. Edrahil thinks this sets a concerning precedent, but Findaráto finds it hilarious and insists that they humor his cousin. Curufinwë, Edrahil thinks his name was? </p><p>  <i>or, the one in which Curufin doesn't realize that he's trying to bribe Finrod's current lover</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Curufin | Curufinwë/Edrahil/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Curufin | Curufinwë/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto, Edrahil/Finrod Felagund | Findaráto</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2021 My Slashy Valentine</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>An Adequacy of Consideration</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyEventide/gifts">SkyEventide</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>For SkyEventide - slashy, slashy Valentine's Day! </p><p>Look, all of your prompts felt extraordinarily targeted at me and my writing interests, and many were the anguished sighs as I tried to pick just one of them XD  But never let it be said that I will pass up a chance to write about The Nargothrond Crewe and all the excellent drama they get up to, so here we are... Hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it, ahaha!! It also comes with a playlist here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/48xTjTHca0m7atbxFBC29A </p><p>(Many thanks both to Keiliss, for letting me wax poetic as I juggled ideas, and to IgnobleBard, for a speedy and awesome beta read!) </p><p>(Also, this is my 100th work on Ao3, and it is about the best and most indicative piece I could have picked for that particular honor...)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Edrahil was wandering the great central market – seeking a gift for Findaráto, as it happened, on one of those rare days where his time off guard duty coincided with a council meeting that the King of Nargothrond simply could not miss – when it first happened.</p><p>"You."</p><p>When he turned, bemused at the curt address, Edrahil recognized the root cause immediately – the one who had hailed him was one of the two Noldorin princes who had been escorted into Nargothrond with their bedraggled retinue just days prior. One of Findaráto's cousins, so far as Edrahil had been able to follow the chatter that swirled in their wake. And, going by his darker hair, the younger of the two – Curufinwë, if Edrahil recalled correctly.</p><p>But he did not return the Noldo's sharp address: only waited, one brow rising, to see what this strange foreign prince might want of him. He could not recall that Findaráto had introduced him specifically to these Noldo cousins of his – ever conscious of the prejudices that outsiders often held against a liaison between king and commoner – and there should be no reason why this one would single out Edrahil otherwise.</p><p>And yet, here they were.  </p><p>"Do you drink?" Curufinwë asked, without further preamble or even the trappings of social nicety, such as asking after Edrahil's name. Then, within another breath: "No, what am I saying – you are a soldier, of course you drink. Well. If you want your tab covered, Avar, then come with me."</p><p>And so saying, Curufinwë turned on his heel and strode away, off down the cobbled street, ignoring the orderly flow of carts and foot traffic around him as if they did not exist at all. The folk of Nargothrond, well used to the strange ways of non-city dwellers and generally accepting of the time that it took outsiders to adjust to the city's unique customs, simply parted before his aggressive stride and closed back around him when he had passed, going about their lives without much more than a few mild, friendly curses for the stranger temporarily in their midst.</p><p>Watching him go, Edrahil was almost too bemused to decide what to do. If he had needed any reminder that most of Findaráto's kin were full-blooded and high-born Noldor, then this brief barrage from Curufinwë would have been reminder enough to do it. Very few from Nargothrond or its environs actually used the old slur for Edrahil's folk anymore, and fewer still in the streets of this city, during its dim daylight hours – let alone to the very face of a Kwendî such as Edrahil himself.</p><p>The Khazâd shopkeeper, whose fine-carved stone wares Edrahil had been admiring right before the unexpected arrival, had watched this one-sided conversation unfold with equal confusion. Now, though, seeing Curufinwë depart, he looked over at Edrahil and shrugged with just as much bemusement as Edrahil himself felt.</p><p>"Ah'd do it fer the drink, m'self," the Khazâd admitted. "An' then the bloody pleasure a' knockin' his lights out if'n he called y' that one more time. But y' do you, lad."</p><p>"Mmmm." Edrahil offered the craftsman a nod – the briefest inclination of his head, the gesture of respect that one skilled party always offered another here – and replaced the amethyst crane that he had been considering for Findaráto before stepping out into the flow of foot traffic himself, walking in the general direction that Curufinwë had gone.</p><p>The curt Noldo prince himself had long since been swallowed up in the swell of the market crowd, but it was easy enough for Edrahil to pick up his trail. Brightly dressed marketgoers swirled and eddied in his wake, disturbed from the usual walking patterns that everyone in Nargothrond knew how to follow in order to maximize the space and flow of their underground streets: those heading north on the left side of the cobbles, those moving south on the right. But even if they had not, Edrahil knew that he was easily recognized: a tall, sun-scarred Kwendî with only half the inkings that usually adorned a Singer his age, and who carried his hunting knives, wore a muted shade of Findaráto's soft green colors, even on his days free – and the people of Nargothrond were happy enough to point him after the stranger.</p><p>
  <em>That way, guardsman… Left, Felagundwë… Went down and turned, off toward Brewster's Street…</em>
</p><p>Once upon a time – back during those days when Edrahil had still been bound to the Sindarin court that had held sway over half these lands before Findaráto had united them all as one kingdom: as Nargothrond – names like these would have stung his pride to the point of starting brawls. Edrahil had been no man's guard, no man's One, and he had not been afraid to prove it: with fists and heels and teeth, if necessary. But now –</p><p>Edrahil simply nodded his thanks to the folk of Nargothrond who directed him, and hurried on.</p><p>One man's guard. One man's One. Things have changed, now, and this was not even the greatest of them.</p><p>Between the ebb of the crowd and the directions he was offered, Edrahil eventually caught up with the strange princeling at one of the many public houses in the streets bordering Nargothrond's main market. He had not even asked before Ailinel, the proprietress, jerked her head toward one of the best tables in the place: large, wide, and well-carved, with a clear view of the street and its passerby just outside. And indeed, there sat the Noldo prince, his legs crossed right over left and his boots tipped up on the edge of the well-kept table.</p><p>"I will handle him," Edrahil promised Ailinel. He rather liked this place as a drinking spot, and had even managed to get Findaráto to join him here once or twice – he was not about to lose the owner's good graces over something that wasn't even his fault.</p><p>"Please do," the younger woman grumbled. "Him and his folk have been coming in for near a sennight now, rude as you please, and their coin isn't worth their airs."</p><p>Edrahil snorted, softly – wasn't that just princes for you, Findaráto himself aside – and strode across the room to stand before the table Ailinel had indicated. He noted with satisfaction that his new position blocked out the soft light that the stranger had been enjoying through the large window; now Edrahil's own shadow stretched across the table in its place.</p><p>The Noldo eyed him for a long moment, as if deciding whether or not it was beneath his notice to mention this small impertinence, before eventually deciding against it. "Took you long enough, guardsman," he said instead.  </p><p>Hmm. The title hit differently from a stranger. Edrahil could almost go back to disliking it.</p><p>"Regardless." The Noldo leveled a cold, appraising stare at him, as if assessing the quality of leather to a new saddle. "I've seen you before, I think – at the dais of the king, yes?"</p><p>Edrahil stiffened, ever so slightly. It was hardly a surprise that folk recognized him as one of Findaráto's guards; it <em>was </em>more concerning when a newcomer did so, and then their response was to pull him aside, far beyond the palace environs, and question him about it.</p><p>"What of it." Edrahil did not bother to make his tone welcoming, or the words themselves a question.</p><p>"Whatever it pleases you to make of it, honestly," the Noldo said dismissively, looking away from Edrahil with a showy yawn of feigned boredom. "For, you see, I require assistance – nothing too arduous, nothing too burdensome – and I thought to myself, <em>there is one with the look of a man unhappy with his place</em>!"</p><p>Edrahil only just barely swallowed back a snort of derision. Unhappy, of his place with Findaráto? Why, the only time Edrahil would be even <em>slightly</em> distracted or unhappy with a rotation accompanying the King of Nargothrond was if he had been imagining said King in a slightly more compromising position upon that same throne…</p><p>Regardless.</p><p>The Noldo glanced over his shoulder to see what effect his words might be having. Seeing this, Edrahil raised a single brow, watched the foreign prince realize that his sum effect had been <em>nothing</em>. Huffing with annoyance at the apparent fact that the common folk here did not play along with the theatrics of strange nobility, the Noldo scoffed and turned back to face him head-on.</p><p>"I wish an audience with the King," he said baldly. Quiet, but not so quiet that anyone in the public house with half an ear to listen in couldn't hear it. "A private one, in his chambers, not before the riffraff he entertains on a daily basis in that gaudy throne room of his. I wish to discuss a matter of some urgency with him, and he has been dodging my concerns almost since I first arrived. <em>'Oh, you can say it before my people, Curvo, I will have no secrets from themmmm!' </em>Please."</p><p>This last part was almost certainly meant to be an imitation of Findaráto himself, and, loathe as he was to admit it, Edrahil could actually hear the likeness. Still, he could feel his brow rising higher and higher with every borderline-treasonous word of this little speech, and the Noldo finally seemed to catch on to that. He also – and correctly – seemed to imagine that Edrahil's unimpressed look might mean that his request was being denied, for he now lowered his boots to the floor and leaned forward with a scrape of chair legs against sanded wooden planks, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper that invited Edrahil to lean in too.</p><p>Edrahil did not lean in.</p><p>"It is nothing that will harm him or his kingdom," the Noldo promised quietly. "And I will make it well worth your while, guardsman."</p><p>Edrahil watched as the Noldo piled five coins of High Kingdom make and weight atop the table, one atop the other atop the other.</p><p>He looked from the Noldo to the stack of coin, then back to the Noldo, letting the princeling see his contempt clear on his face.</p><p>"Have it your way, then," the Noldo snapped, sweeping his paltry bribe back into an inner pocket and standing with a screech of chair legs and a ruffled swirl of rich but travel-stained cloak. He didn't <em>quite </em>say 'I will find someone else to bribe' but Edrahil could read it clearly in his stormy face and brow, and he decided, suddenly, that he would rather know where such bribes were going and control the information that they received in turn.</p><p>So.</p><p>"Give me time to think," he said, low, when the Noldo drew abreast of him on his way out the door of the public house. "Return here tomorrow evening, with twice the coin, and you will have what assistance I can offer."</p><p>The Noldo snorted, not deigning to offer him an answer to this, and stormed out with a clatter of Ailinel's fine-carved wooden doors.</p><p>When Curufinwë had gone, Edrahil turned to Ailinel, still standing at her place behind the counter and watching all of this with an eagle-sharp eye. "Do you think – I was just asked – to commit treachery against my King?" he asked, slowly.</p><p> Ailinel was no longer even pretending to wipe the glass she had in hand. "I think you were." She sounded as disbelieving as Edrahil felt. "In a public place before multiple eyes, no less." She didn't quite gesture around to the half dozen or so patrons seated about her establishment, drinking and talking in the lull between market rushes, but she didn't even need to.</p><p>"I hardly believe it myself," Edrahil admitted, relieved that <em>someone </em>agreed on what had just taken place here. The unfathomable <em>audacity</em>… And then it struck him. "He promised me an entire tab when he demanded I follow him here, too. But I'm guessing he didn't purchase anything, did he." </p><p>Ailinel snorted. "As if. Well. Shows what that upstart knows about our city, that he thinks he can just waltz right up to one of the King's own guard and bribe them for favors! And <em>you, </em>of all the guards he could have chosen!"</p><p>Edrahil could feel his face heat. "Yes. Well. Be sure that the King will know about this."</p><p>"Hah." Ailinel finally began wiping out the next glass. "I never had any doubt of that, Felagundwë."</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p>When informed of the day's goings-on, and the unthinkable request of his cousin, Findaráto laughed until he was nearly sobbing.</p><p>"Stars," he gasped, seeming to collect himself – only to collapse back atop his own bed again a heartbeat later, all but weeping with mirth.</p><p>Edrahil, seated on the side of said bed, huffed at him. "Are you not concerned by this?"</p><p>"<em>No</em>," Findaráto wheezed. "Why- why should I- be? He asked- he asked- <em>you</em>! To betray- <em>me</em>!"</p><p>"I am glad to know that the very existence of such requests does not concern you," Edrahil said dryly, though he did enjoy seeing Findaráto so unburdened that he could laugh this freely. "But still. Even if this attempt was thwarted, he may well ask again, and I do not like that this is a test your guard – no, your <em>city – </em>must face. Secure as Nargothrond's position in Western Beleriand might be with you as the Narog's chosen king, questions about your integrity will do you no favors."</p><p>"Thwarted?" Findaráto sat upright now, latching onto an earlier concern and leaving the rest to lie there in Edrahil's hands. The bedsheets lay rumpled in his wake as he scooted closer. "No, no, no – Edrahil, dearheart, you must let him in."</p><p>Stunned, Edrahil turned to face his lover.</p><p>Still chuckling a little, Findaráto reached for him, chucking him gently beneath the chin. Edrahil chased his fingers with a mock growl and a soft bite; smiling fondly, Findaráto let him claim them.</p><p>"I mean it," he said softly. "Curufinwë is not the type to take heed of small obstacles; if you take his coin and leave him standing empty-handed, he will find some means of retribution first, and then he will move on to his next plan, and his next, and his next. No, do not growl at me, dearheart – I know my own cousin, and trust me when I say <em>retribution</em>. It may not take a form that you recognize as such, but it will come all the same, and I do not like to think of you suffering his pettiness, only for him to try grander means next. For-" here Findaráto sighed "-he never has just a single plan up his sleeve, that one."</p><p>Grudgingly releasing the captured fingers, Edrahil had to concede that Findaráto might have a point in this – Edrahil did not know the Noldorin prince with all the certainty of several centuries that Findaráto himself did, and yet, despite that lack, even to him the foreign princeling had still seemed this very type. It helped, too, that Findaráto had lain back now, and drawn Edrahil down with him, so that Edrahil was now lying half atop his lover – blanketing him, shielding him, where Edrahil best loved to be.</p><p>"Besides," Findaráto murmured. His fingers petted through Edrahil's hair now, winding its strands about themselves before smoothing them out again and scratching lightly against his scalp as they went. Edrahil could feel himself sinking into the feeling of it; growing soft in places, and hard in others, against his king and lover.</p><p>"I do not mind the thought of those two losing a little coin," Findaráto continued, sounding gleeful again. "Think of it – they cannot have much left, if they fled the Pass of Aglon with such speed that they had to come begging to us. And if Curvo begins throwing it away, on bribes that it is later revealed he never even needed – oh, how Tyelko will <em>scold</em>!"</p><p>"Mmmm." Edrahil sought out a comfortable place in the crook of Findaráto's neck, nuzzling into the joint where it met his lover's shoulder. He did not much care what Tyelko, whoever that might be, did or did not think of the upstart Noldorin princeling – not unless Findaráto cared first. He was far too comfortable where he was to raise his head and articulate this, though.</p><p>Meanwhile, Findaráto sighed in quiet contentment; his other hand rose to lie, warm and gentle, atop Edrahil's back. "But yes, take his coin – as much of it as you can get – and when you've let him stew a little, I suppose you should let him in here: I'll set up a little surprise for him, hah! Come up by the back stairway, I think, so that fewer will see you; do let whoever is on duty that night know, though, so that they understand you have my blessing in quashing this little intrigue. And-"</p><p>Here Findaráto halted, sounding uncertain, and this was unusual enough for his lover that Edrahil's ears pricked at the pause.</p><p>"And what?" he murmured, soft against the skin of Findaráto's neck.</p><p>"Hmmm." Findaráto sounded wary, for some reason. "Dearheart, I – I think I need to be sitting up, for this part."</p><p>Edrahil let himself be shifted off Findaráto's recumbent form with only a small grumble of complaint. When he shifted about to face his newly-seated lover, though, he could see that Findaráto was picking at the sheets – a sure sign of nerves.</p><p>Edrahil reached out to capture one of those fine-boned hands, and Findaráto let him have his prize without a murmur of opposition. Concerned now, Edrahil pressed a kiss to Findaráto's knuckles before clutching their joined hands closer, waiting patiently for whatever other piece Findaráto might have to add to this puzzle.</p><p>Findaráto stared at their hands, cradled to Edrahil's chest, as if he had never seen such a sight before. "There is – another possibility, to all of this," he admitted, finally.</p><p>Edrahil waited, already suspecting that he might know where this was headed, but Findaráto did not continue until he made a small noise of questioning encouragement.</p><p>"We were – lovers, once. Curufinwë and I."</p><p>Ah. That kind of possibility. Edrahil had wondered.</p><p>"And so, it is possible that he means no harm or intrigue at all," Findaráto continued in a rush, looking away from their joined hands with a suddenness that made Edrahil flinch. "He might simply – well – he was never much good at asking without grand gestures, when we were younger."</p><p>Wordless for the moment, Edrahil brought their joined hands to his lips again. Waited, to see if Findaráto had more to say; tugged lightly, when it became clear that Findaráto would not be saying it, even if he did.</p><p>"Was he any good in bed, at least?" he asked eventually, in as innocent a tone as he could muster.</p><p>"Edrahil!" Findaráto protested, startled into a snort of laughter.</p><p>Edrahil bit lightly at the knuckle nearest him. "That is me," he conceded agreeably.</p><p>"Appalling," Findaráto snickered, not sounding appalled in the slightest. "And yes, you horrible creature, he was adequate."</p><p>Edrahil could <em>feel </em>the shift in the air between them with these words. Oho.</p><p>"Adequate?" he pressed, murmuring the words against the skin of Findaráto's hand as he now sat up too, moving closer to Findaráto. "Decent? Just sufficient?"</p><p>Findaráto shivered beneath this gentle onslaught. "He was what I wanted at the time," he demurred.</p><p>"What would he be by now, you think?" Edrahil wondered, trailing the calloused fingers of his other hand up Findaráto's arm and watching the fine light hairs dusting it rise in their wake.</p><p>"Edrahil," Findaráto began, weakly, but it was clear as daylight beyond the city that his lover was more embarrassed by this than actually repulsed.</p><p>"Findaráto," Edrahil murmured, pressing closer still. "If <em>this</em> is an intrigue you desire – I would have thought you knew by now, that I will not turn you away for simply asking. And if what you ask is too much for my liking, then I will tell you so."</p><p>Findaráto smiled. It was a weak grin, a wavering one, but it was also a start, and Edrahil leaned in to reward it with a chaste kiss at the corner of Findaráto's mouth.</p><p>"You already do so much," Findaráto murmured, turning aside with a clear flush set high upon his cheek. "I would not wish you to think that <em>you </em>are not enough for me."</p><p>Edrahil snorted. He'd thought they were over this by now. "Who wears the marks that match mine?" he asked quietly, finally releasing Findaráto's hand so that he could roll back his own sleeve and raise his arm for his lover's inspection.</p><p>The thin inkings that twined about Edrahil's own forearm, designed to stand in for those of his clan that ordinarily he would have received by his age, stood out dark and sharp against his sun-slashed skin. By now, he knew, Findaráto could parse them as well as Edrahil himself, and so Edrahil knew what Findaráto was seeing, writ there upon Edrahil's skin.</p><p>Upon his forearm, the markings that Edrahil had received in childhood before his years in captivity to the Sindar had been augmented by motifs designed for Nargothrond, for Findaráto's inner circle, and for Findaráto himself. Of these, only Edrahil and Findaráto wore that third level of marking.</p><p>Seeing these markings, Findaráto softened visibly, and seeing that softening, Edrahil could not quite hold back a smile of his own. He was never certain how much credence he lent his own people's beliefs that one's return to the world was tied to those who held one's memories and one's marks – he hadn't had much time as a child to learn them, after all, and later the Sindar had been quick to quash any hint of folk knowledge or fellow feeling among their bondsfolk – but today, these markings tied Findaráto to him, as much as he was tied to Findaráto, so. Even if Edrahil did not know whether the inkings would hold them close to each other in and after death, then he could at least have that certainly in life. He was of Nargothrond, and Nargothrond acknowledged him; he was of Findaráto's inner circle, and that inner circle acknowledged him. He was Findaráto's; Findaráto had accepted him. And Findaráto wore their mark too, to show that Edrahil had accepted him in turn.</p><p>"So there," he told Findaráto softly, as quietly triumphant as if he had actually spoken any of this particular claim aloud. He bumped his forearm companionably against Findaráto's, where his lover's own markings peeked from beneath the sleeve of his nightshirt. "What could any former lover of yours offer to counter these, that I should be afraid they will divert you from me entirely?"</p><p>"Nothing of this magnitude," Findaráto admitted, sounding almost rueful that he had not considered their deepest bond.</p><p>"Then why not see if he wants to fuck?" Edrahil asked, ignoring Findaráto's startled splutter with a studied serenity. "Think he's still only adequate?"</p><p>"We do not know if that is why he tried to bribe you!" Findaráto protested, snorting as he finally tugged his hand free. "And I am starting to think that I would almost prefer another option, if this is the filth that my dearest one will subject me to in the meantime!"</p><p>But he was laughing again, and he moved back to sit against the headboard now, so Edrahil, grumbling showily about being made to move again, followed him, flopping across Findaráto's legs and pinning him in place, butting his head against Findaráto's hands until his lover began stroking through his hair again.</p><p>They lay so in companionable silence for a time before Edrahil spoke again. "My first thought in this is you, Findaráto," he said quietly, half-muffled against his lover's thighs. "As it is in all things. So if I bring him to you, and you want him in that way, then the choice is yours. Or if I bring him to you, and he has political intrigue on his mind that you do not wish to hear, then I will drag him from the city by his ridiculous hair in that very hour, and I don't care which of the Noldor or anyone else are there to see or hear me do it."</p><p>Findaráto's fingers in his hair stilled for a heartbeat before moving once more, and there was a catch in Findaráto's voice when he spoke again. "My best beloved," he murmured. "The things you offer me, as if they are of no difficulty to you at all…"</p><p>"Mmph." Edrahil butted his head upward again. The movement left his chin brushing a sensitive place that left Findaráto yelping, while also pushing the crown of his head further into Findaráto's hands.</p><p>"Tell me of him," Edrahil murmured, nuzzling further into Findaráto's lap just to hear that sound once more, and grinning against the soft fabric that separated them when Findaráto made it again. "If things do tend that way, what should I expect of a prince of his infamous line?"</p><p>"Hhhh." Findaráto had to reach down and adjust himself, somewhat breathlessly, before answering. But Edrahil settled himself right back above that particular spot the moment Findaráto's hands left it, and he was rewarded by feeling Findaráto twitch with interest beneath him as he did. "Well…"</p><p>Edrahil learned many things about Curufinwë, prince of dead Fëanáro's line, that night. That Curufinwë was proud and bold, almost to a fault; that he was fiercely loyal, though only to those few he had deemed worthy of such allegiance. That he had a mind to rulership, and always had done; that his keen mind always layered schemes upon schemes, so that he achieved his ends more often than not.</p><p>And that Findaráto had cared for him greatly, once. That their connection had been one of youth and fervor, as the only offspring of their respective lines with minds for politics but few other avenues of exercising them…</p><p>And that Curufinwë found a challenge exciting. That he would take direction in bed, if presented with an enticing incentive.</p><p>"And I would be incentive enough, I think," Findaráto admitted sleepily, when Edrahil eventually finished with him. "But if you were there, into the bargain, and he saw how fully he had been hoodwinked by a clever mind that he had not even thought to suspect…"</p><p>Not many folk saw Edrahil as a clever mind, or a strategist, or indeed anything of this stripe: far too many stopped at the sun-scarring and deemed him an unlearned creature of the forests, or at Findaráto's own colors and thought him a simple extension of the King's hand. So just for this Edrahil had to kiss Findaráto again, and soon enough they were back where they had started, just a single watch prior.</p><p>And so, the next day, Edrahil met the Noldo princeling back at the public house as they had arranged in haste the noontide before, though Edrahil guided him outside this time before claiming a doubled stack of High Kingdom coin in exchange for leading Curufinwë to Findaráto's personal chambers for a private audience with the King.</p><p>Later that night, Edrahil claimed; Curufinwë should come to a certain spot by the palace, and Edrahil would meet him there when he was able.</p><p>Only that spot was by the palace kitchen's refuse-heap. This heap had been placed strategically, beneath a well-ventilated shaft, but no amount of ventilation could disguise what it was or prettify the fungi that were cultivated along its surface to help break down wastes. And by the time Edrahil finally deigned to go find Curufinwë, halfway through the night, and lie through his teeth saying that the King had been indisposed – the only thing indisposing Findaráto that night was a languid postcoital sleepiness – Curufinwë was shivering with cold and smelled like the heap too. The Noldorin prince only left, trailing the stench and a long stream of quiet invectives behind him, when Edrahil threatened not to lead him in after all, on a more auspicious night.</p><p>With Findaráto's gleeful blessing, Edrahil strung Curufinwë along in this way for another sennight. One night he did not meet Curufinwë at the agreed-upon spot at all, and only came to the public house to say that he had been too drunk to move; the next, he led the Noldo prince but a step beyond the palace walls before steering them into the path of the night guards' patrols and pretending to be spooked, sending them both back outside. Between one arranged accident and another, Edrahil wrung two more stacks of coin out of Curufinwë, and had the distinct pleasure of seeing a wildness grow about the Noldorin prince's eyes at every delay.</p><p>But eventually, Findaráto told him that enough was enough, and it was time that they found out what precisely Curufinwë wanted. And so that very night, Edrahil finally escorted Curufinwë into the palace, leading him along secret ways until they reached the chambers of the King.</p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p>"Tonight is finally to be the night, then," Curufinwë muttered as he followed Edrahil deeper into the carven palace that held the heart of Nargothrond.</p><p>Edrahil scoffed. "Not if you continue grumbling and stomping along so loudly," he warned, though in truth, 'til this point, Curufinwë had been nearly as silent as Edrahil himself. "Do you <em>wish </em>to run into another patrol, the way we did the other night?"</p><p>With one last discontented murmur, Curufinwë fell blessedly quiet, and Edrahil could focus on getting them to Findaráto's chambers. Although in truth, he had already spoken with the night's rotation of guards, alerting them that he was bringing a guest to Findaráto that evening and telling them they shouldn't be concerned if they saw Edrahil out on that level of the royal residences with a newcomer. There had been some good-natured rumblings and no little wolf-whistling – Findaráto taking a third was not unknown, though it had not happened often after Balan's death some centuries prior – but still, Edrahil was resolved to keep Curufinwë out of the guards' curious sights if at all possible. As he saw it, there was no sense in stoking the rumors about who Findaráto's guest was to be – particularly since they still did not know why Curufinwë wanted this clandestine audience so dearly.</p><p>But somehow they made it to Findaráto's chambers unseen and unhindered. Curufinwë made as if to walk straight ahead, right from the carven stairwell out into the main hall, but Edrahil snatched at his arm and drew him back into the shadows – a movement, he noticed with some small glee, that left them both grimacing at the unexpected contact.</p><p>"What are you thinking?" Edrahil hissed at his temporary charge. "We must take the back way, the servants' way, so that we will not be seen."</p><p>Curufinwë grumbled again at this, but at least he also acquiesced to being led about.</p><p>And it <em>was </em>odd, Edrahil could not help but think, to enter Findaráto's chambers in this way once more, even if it was just for the show of a single night. By now all Nargothrond, and much of its environs, knew that Findaráto shared a bed with one of his guards, even if most did not know just how deep that bond had grown – and so Edrahil had not needed to enter Findaráto's space by such secret ways since the very earliest days of their time together. Back when Findaráto was still trying to win the support of the Sindar and the Khazâd, in fact; back before Artaresto had stood and interceded for his fitness as their over-king, in fact.</p><p>To come here again now, then, was – <em>interesting</em>, to say the least.</p><p>And so Edrahil led Curufinwë along the servants' paths, carven into the very walls of the palace, until they had reached Findaráto's bedchamber; a room that lay still and dark as they entered it, without its main occupant currently in residence. As they crept through the bedchamber, Edrahil did not miss the keen way in which Curufinwë's eyes darted about the room, as if assessing its layout and taking in the details of Findaráto's private space. For the first time, Edrahil was led to wonder whether this had truly been the best plan they could have made – before shaking off those doubts, recalling that this had been what Findaráto wanted.</p><p>At the door between the bedchamber and its receiving area – still a hallowed place, where very few beyond Findaráto's inner circle were ever invited – Edrahil stopped and stepped to the side, gesturing Curufinwë toward the firelit room beyond where they now stood. "He is likely in there," he whispered, still playing the part of one who was a guardsman and a guardsman only; one who did not, who could not, know Findaráto's night-time routines as intimately as Findaráto himself. "Go in."</p><p>"About time." Curufinwë nodded curtly. "Dismissed, soldier."</p><p>And with that, he simply strode past Edrahil into the room beyond.<br/>
<br/>
For a heartbeat, Edrahil was too shocked - and even, he could admit to himself, <em>outraged - </em>to move. Who did Curufinwë think he <em>was, </em>dismissing <em>him? </em>It was only when the reality of Curufinwë's quiet footfalls receding registered that Edrahil realized: his sudden rootedness meant that he risked missing out on the revelation itself. Which was not to be borne<em>, </em>so he hurriedly stepped back up to the doorway that Curufinwë had just stepped through. </p><p>And from there, that doorway between Findaráto's private receiving room and his bedchamber, Edrahil now watched in mounting glee as Curufinwë strode into the next room – realized that Findaráto was seated by the fire but <em>facing </em>his own bedchamber, and stacking a pile of High Kingdom coins, one atop the other atop the other – and came to an abrupt stop merely steps inside, his head moving in minute darts from point to point as he rapidly assembled these new pieces of information to arrive at the correct conclusion.</p><p>To his credit, Curufinwë showed at least a modicum of grace about this realization. When he turned back the way he had come as if to see whether escape would be possible – only to see that Edrahil had entered after him, and was now leaning against the doorframe – the Noldo prince said only: "You sold me out, then."</p><p>"In a sense," Findaráto said cheerfully. Even from across the room, Edrahil could see the gleam of mischief in his lover's eyes already. "It really would behoove you, cousin, to realize that this is not Tirion, nor Hithlum, nor even the Pass. You are but a guest here, not a ruler, and we do not live as they did, either. What would have served you to achieve your ends in a court of the Noldor will not work as you imagine it here – not in the combined kingdom of Nargothrond."</p><p>"So I see." Slowly, Curufinwë turned back to his cousin. "Well-met then, Ingoldo, and your concerns for my welfare are duly noted. I will not make the mistake of assuming such things about Nargothrond again."</p><p>"May it be so." And so Findaráto nodded, every stately inch the King of Nargothrond despite the late hour, the informal setting, and his own… Hunter save them, Edrahil was only just now noticing the nearly-sheer robes that Findaráto had donned for this meeting. Well, he thought weakly, if Curufinwë <em>hadn't</em> come here tonight with a tumble on his mind, then surely the thought must be there soon. When Findaráto made up his mind to stand, who would be able to resist him in such finery?</p><p>But then Findaráto's mouth curved upward, Edrahil snorted seeing it, and Curufinwë whipped around, looking from one to the other in puzzlement – and the solemn moment in which the King of Nargothrond had received a potential traitor was utterly lost. Now Findaráto cackled like a loon, and Edrahil could not resist a quiet chuff of laughter himself, at the bewildered look on Curufinwë's face.</p><p>"Not that you could afford to do so again," Findaráto said, more warmly now, settling back in his chair a little more comfortably and still chortling as he flipped one of the High Kingdom coins at his cousin. "How much of your remaining coin did you spend on trying to set up this little meeting, Curvo?"</p><p>"Enough." Curufinwë's own mouth twitched in a miniscule movement upwards even as he snatched up the coin mid-air. "Tyelko will have someone's head when it turns up missing; I will have to vouch for Tyelpe, though at least my brother will never suspect <em>me</em>."</p><p>"Ha<em>ha!" </em>Findaráto's crow of delight rang up to the very ceiling. "Didn't I tell you as much, Edrahil? Hah. Am I so fine a fuck as all that, cousin?"</p><p>And just like that, a new tension congealed in the air. Edrahil watched Curufinwë's very spine stiffen, as if the foreign prince was steeling himself for a blow. And Curufinwë was very carefully not looking at either one of them when he answered, either. “We had good times together, as younger men.”</p><p>Findaráto snorted, inelegant and amused as he twirled a second coin through his fingers, and Edrahil's heart swelled with a fierce affection for him. “What a slippery silver tongue you’ve grown since I last saw you, Curvo! That wasn't what I asked you at all!"</p><p>Now Curufinwë snorted too, the sound coming wryer from his thin-lipped mouth. "And I, for my part, do not know your man here well enough to decide how much I can safely say before him. He was obviously in on this, yes, but that hardly means-"</p><p>"You could always <em>ask</em> him, Curvo," Findaráto interrupted, sounding sly. "After all, I hear that you have been assuming one thing after another about Edrahil here without bothering to do even a <em>slip </em>of the diligent spywork that would have told you precisely whom you were trying to bribe and just what a stupid idea that was. Now might be the time to make up for that, eh?" </p><p>Brow furrowing, Curufinwë looked from Findaráto, smirking in his languid seat, to Edrahil himself, leaning insouciantly against the entryway to Findaráto's inner sanctum. An answer seemed to occur to the Noldo prince almost immediately, but not one that he could accept at first; eventually, though, Edrahil had the distinct pleasure of watching realization break across Curufinwë's face like the dawn.</p><p>"Ah," the Noldo said only. "I had heard rumors of a lover, but nothing more concrete. Foolish of me, not to account for every possibility of who this alleged paramour might be. Though, Ingoldo-"</p><p>And there Curufinwë faltered, as if realizing that whatever rash thing he might have said next about Findaráto's tastes would be uttered well within earshot of the one such a statement was decrying. Edrahil snorted, amused by the sudden attempt at discretion when this same princeling had been attempting to bribe him for over a sennight, and Findaráto laughed out loud, apparently struck by the same thought.</p><p>"Oh, Curvo." Here Findaráto finally stood, in a flurry of fine thin robes, and Edrahil had the distinct twin pleasures of, first, glimpsing his lover's fine form only half-hidden beneath that silken cloth and its strategically placed embroideries, and second, watching Curufinwë's eyes fly wide as he took in the same sight.</p><p>And then Findaráto, still smiling as he rounded the table, gestured toward Edrahil. "I told you: <em>ask him</em>."</p><p>One of the Noldo prince's brows rose until it was nearly lost in his dark hair. But in this, at least, it seemed that he and Edrahil had something in common, for Curufinwë did not refuse Findaráto a direct instruction. Instead, Curufinwë turned slowly to Edrahil, his expression torn between rue at his predicament and ire at being placed there.</p><p>"Well, then. How much will you tolerate of me, Avar, before you decide to try bloodying my face?"</p><p>Edrahil heard Findaráto inhale through his nose, short and sharp, upon hearing the slur, but as for himself, he had already been expecting a jab along these lines: abrasive, evasive, and hiding what the Noldo prince actually wanted to know beneath the shot, in the hopes of finding an answer without actually having to ask the question.</p><p>And no. Edrahil was not interested in posturing like this. He met Curufinwë's gaze head on.</p><p>"For one thing," he said, slowly: "I will not tolerate the name of my people being taken as the Unwilling, rather than the Singers. <em>Kwendî</em>. Not Avari." </p><p>Curufinwë's other brow inclined to join the first, but Edrahil plunged on. "And I do not hold with anything but plain speaking. Not here; not with him, not when we are away from the court." He could hear Findaráto's soft exhalation at this – as if Edrahil's insistence that this be a place of respite and peace still surprised him, even after all these years.</p><p>"So," Edrahil said quietly. "If you came here for something, Noldo, then say so. Do not hide behind your talk of <em>tolerating</em> and <em>bloodying, </em>as if anyone but you brought such offerings of violence into our home. Ask me, if you want something you think I can give; ask my King, if there is some honest request that you have disturbed our peace to bring him. What are you here for?"</p><p>Curufinwë blinked, slowly. Turned to look at Findaráto, as if to address him; turned back to Edrahil, when Findaráto made an impatient <em>go on! </em>motion at him. "You are not what I thought you were," he said, finally.</p><p>"As my King told you before me," Edrahil said, quietly but not without his own iron. "<em>That is not what I asked</em>."</p><p>"He did say that, didn't he." Curufinwë huffed, looking aside. "Very well, then. I do not know why I am here anymore. I came hoping for a pleasant night with an old friend, and I seem to have found that there is neither time nor space for such pleasantries as I had wished."</p><p>"Stars <em>above</em>, Curvo," Findaráto complained from behind his place by the table, finally unable to keep himself from interjecting any longer. "That's not plain enough. Are you here to fuck or finagle?"</p><p>With an almost apologetic nod to Edrahil, Curufinwë turned back to his cousin. "Ingoldo, is that even-" And here Curufinwë stopped once more, as if struck all over again by the nearly-sheer robes his cousin wore: most <em>definitely</em> not the attire of a man prepared to receive guests – or, at least, not official ones. And Findaráto, creature of chaos that he was, struck a hipslung pose against the table when he noticed Curufinwë looking.</p><p>Edrahil sighed, half exasperated and half amused, and rubbed ruefully at the bridge of his nose.</p><p>"Fine," Curufinwë said finally. "Yes. Yes, I was hoping for a – Ingoldo, you damned pervert, don't make me say this in front of your man – <em>fuck</em>, and fuck but I have missed you."</p><p>"Mmmm," Findaráto mused, pulling himself aright. "That feels like the most honest thing you've said all night – or since you've arrived here, really. Well done, Curvo – I wasn't sure you had it in you anymore!"</p><p>Edrahil watched with avid eyes as Findaráto strode – no, <em>swayed</em> – across the room to join them. And as he came level first with Curufinwë, then passed him to stop beside Edrahil himself, Edrahil was made all the more keenly aware of how they were ending up practically in the doorway to Findaráto's bedchamber.</p><p>"He looks like he needs a hint, doesn't he," Findaráto murmured sweetly, as if for Edrahil's ears alone, before fisting a gentle hand in the lengths of Edrahil's hair and drawing him down into a kiss.</p><p>Edrahil followed him. As he always did.</p><p>And when they parted again, Edrahil noticed Curufinwë watching avidly.</p><p>"What-" Curufinwë's voice had gone so hoarse, with shock or with lust, that the foreign prince had to lick his lips, clear his throat, make the attempt again. "What are you saying, cousin."</p><p>"You would have known that, ohhh, nearly half an Age ago, if you had but asked," Findaráto said archly. One slender finger hooked itself in the low collar of Edrahil's tunic, and Edrahil came willingly when Findaráto pulled, stepping past them both and leading the way into his bedchamber. "I think my lover intends to fuck me, and he has indicated his willingness to entertain you as well, if you mind your manners."</p><p>Curufinwë made a sound as if he were suddenly choking, and Findaráto laughed at him. "That was about the gist of it, yes?" he asked Edrahil playfully.</p><p>As if Edrahil would have put it half so roguishly! But at the heart of the matter…</p><p>"Yes," he murmured, though not without narrowing his eyes at Curufinwë over the crown of Findaráto's shining golden head. There was a warning there, if only the Noldo prince had both skill and will to read it: <em>your welcome here is extended at his hand, and by my pleasure</em>. "That was the essence of it, yes."</p><p>"Wonderful," Findaráto said gleefully. "Now, Curvo, I have some ideas…"</p><p>And so he did. There were always configurations that he and Edrahil could not accomplish unaided, no matter the contrivances they brought to bed with them or the lengths to which Edrahil might work his fingers and tongue. Edrahil alone simply could not provide Findaráto with both a fucking and a distant observer to watch that activity; nor could Edrahil alone offer Findaráto both an ass to fuck and a cock to enjoy, all at the same time. And there were times when Findaráto wanted it all, without the frustration of waiting or the effort spent choosing among his many desires.</p><p>Luckily, though, Curufinwë seemed to be everything that his cousin had promised he would be: proud and cunning, fervent and unwilling to back down from a challenge. Edrahil had doubted certain things of the Noldo prince, but Curufinwë rose to every test Findaráto set them both. He submitted himself with apparent grace to being stripped, slowly, as Findaráto watched, panting with eagerness and self-denial; to being put upon his knees opposite Findaráto himself; to being made to simply watch the first time Edrahil prepared and took Findaráto, on his hands and knees atop the King's fine bed. There were times, as always, when that which Findaráto desired seemed odd to Edrahil – for instance, what pleasure did he gain from kissing his cousin, while Edrahil's cock slid between their hot and panting lips? – but it was not as if Edrahil himself received no pleasure from such preferences on his lover's part. And even if he had not, seeing Findaráto heavy-eyed with lust and gratification at this indulgence would be more than incentive enough in itself.  </p><p>Curufinwë's stolen audience ended with Findaráto slotted between them, enjoying what each had to offer him in turn: Edrahil behind his liege and lover, Curufinwë lain beneath his host and old flame. Edrahil could feel Findaráto shaking apart with breathless gasps as he was first driven forward into the heat of his old lover and then pulled back again just as sharp; but Edrahil could not escape the way that Curufinwë watched them both, his eyes sharper than they should have been with a man buried so deep inside him.</p><p>Edrahil's fingers curled into the jut of Findaráto's hips, and Curufinwë's gaze narrowed further. The Noldo prince's fingers wound their way into Findaráto's hair, weaving themselves deep within that golden mane and tugging so that Findaráto cried out with bliss at the strain, releasing himself inside Curufinwë and leaving Edrahil, grunting, to hurry and catch up.</p><p>In its entirety, it was not <em>dissatisfying</em> – it rarely was, with Findaráto – but that gaze left something itching at Edrahil's skin, clamoring for his attention to some end that he knew not.  </p><p> </p><p>~ ~ ~</p><p>When Curufinwë had gone – he had stood, afterward, and without looking at either of them, said he couldn't be found missing by his own party in the morning. And Edrahil had agreed with his departure, if only because he didn't feel up to explaining the outsider's presence to whoever might be on rotation outside Findaráto's door in the morning – Findaráto slumped deeper into the nest they had made of his fine bed, boneless and warm in Edrahil's arms.</p><p>"At least move over then," Edrahil murmured against his back. "Don't want to sleep in it, love."</p><p>Findaráto gave a wordless grumble of complaint, but obligingly made room for them both atop the drier, cleaner side of the sheets. Edrahil squeezed his hipbone in silent thanks.</p><p>"Verdict?" Findaráto asked, with a face-splitting yawn.</p><p>"Mmm?"</p><p>"What is your verdict?" Findaráto murmured. "Mine is <em>still adequate</em>."</p><p>Edrahil snorted, slapping the top of Findaráto's thigh as the recurring reference finally hit home. "<em>Adequate</em> will do, Majesty," he agreed. "But-"</p><p>And now it was Edrahil's turn to hesitate, to stumble over things yet unsaid and wonder if they deserved their existence in the soft, candle-lit glow of Findaráto's room, beyond the darker caverns of Edrahil's own heart.</p><p>"But what?" Findaráto asked drowsily.</p><p>"But nothing." Leaning up on one elbow now, Edrahil looked down upon his king and lover, splayed here beside him, with a softness that Findaráto would flush at, shy away from, had he seen it head on. "I simply thought to repeat something you already know: that for me, no play with a guest will ever compare to you alone beside me."</p><p>"Mmm." Findaráto's eyes had long since fallen shut, but Edrahil watched a satisfied smile dance across his face all the same. And although his lover did not repeat the sentiment – indeed, Edrahil remained uncertain that Findaráto's being was even made for such constancy, though his heart might be, and he had made his peace with this knowledge many centuries ago – at least Findaráto seemed content. And so Edrahil did not speak to him of that strange moment toward the end, when Curufinwë had watched them both with an avidity, a hunger, that had set Edrahil's skin ablaze, worse than it was said to have been when his people first wandered out into the light of the Sun.</p><p>"But," Findaráto murmured, and the lone word spoken into that long quiet startled Edrahil back to himself. "Enough for a second invitation, while he and his party remain as our guests?"</p><p>Hoping to soothe his sudden agitation, Edrahil smoothed calloused fingers through that much-beloved golden mane; hoping, he could admit to himself, that perhaps his touch would erase any lingering traces of the thinner, sharper fingers that had clawed their way there earlier that very night. Findaráto, almost purring, leaned back into the touch with a satisfied shudder that ran the length of his form; Edrahil, deep in his own satisfaction at this, found himself lulled into speaking his truth.</p><p>"Perhaps. But not quite so soon as all that."</p><p>Findaráto made some sound of assent before arching his back into Edrahil's chest, utterly derailing that particular train of thought for the remainder of the night.</p><p>But the drive behind it remained with Edrahil, and within days he found himself back at the great market in the center of the city, making his way back to the stand where he had seen those stone carvings he had been considering while seeking a gift for Findaráto. However, when the Khazâd craftsman attempted to show him the same amethyst crane that he had held the time before, Edrahil shook his head with a regretful smile.</p><p>"Do you have any – <em>other</em> goods?" he asked slowly, unsure of how else to indicate what he was seeking this time without actually voicing <em>toys for bedplay </em>aloud right there beside the most crowded thoroughfare of the marketplace.</p><p>"Other goods?" the Khazâd asked slowly. Beneath his bright woolen cap, one of his bushy brows waggled as if it had developed a life of its own. "Well, lad, if y're lookin' fer anythin' y' don't see here – <em>anythin'</em>, mind you – then that'd be the time t' come an' visit us over at the shop. Up on Jewelsmith's Way, third over from the turn by the pub, door bright red as a ruby - or the flush y'll be havin' on yer man's face in no time at all with our quality work."</p><p>Ah. No, seems he'd been clear enough already. "Thank you, Master Craftsman," Edrahil said hastily, committing the directions to memory and resolving to visit later, even as he offered the requisite nod of respect and stepped back, hurrying to rejoin the crowd. No sense in letting the good folk of Nargothrond have any more fuel for speculation about their king than they already created themselves.</p><p>Still. Edrahil was not one to rest upon even hard-earned laurels, and adequate could always be done better, somehow. </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>